When I write, I feel like an armless, legless man with a crayon in his mouth.

Kurt Vonnegut wrote that. That's how I feel all the time. Except my crayon is a nub and I need to remove the paper. Frustrating. I know that I've been paid to write and I keep getting assignments, but I feel more like a fraud than I ever have. As I get closer and closer to my goals, I feel as if I am still so far away. Each success begs to be duplicated and brings its own very different fears. I am overwhelmed. I want to quit everything, just stop it, but the thought of doing that is so gut wrenching, and when I actually sit down to put word to page (or type to screen), I am at home. I don't know why this has to be such a combative process, but then, as Will Smith playing Chris Gardner says, it is the pursuit of happiness. I don't want to work this hard, yet when I do it, I love it. Ah well, let me take this crayon and pretend that my work is not a giant cerulean scribble on the screen of life.